Daemon
by Dark-Elk
Summary: Fifty years after Frozen Throne, four unlikely companions find themselves witness to a gruesome scene...Chapter 3 up finally! R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Daemon  
  
Chapter 1  
  
By: Dark-Elk  
  
=+=+ Authors Note: This story happens approximately 50 or so years after Frozen Throne. Not sure exactly how many, but it really doesn't matter. =+=+  
  
The stench of death hung in the air like a malignant fog. Mordecai struggled to keep his last meal down as he surveyed the gruesome scene before him. His face, an impassive mask, gave no hint to his company his true discomfort.  
  
"Demonspawn!" spat a pale, spindly man from behind Mordecai, studiously avoiding the litter of corpses before the group. Mordecai tried to place the voice, but gave up the futile act. He was not known for his social skills.  
  
"That is what it looks like," a tall, voluptuous brunette, clad in traditional mage robes, affirmed. Mordecai knew the voice well - he had fallen prey to her charms years ago, but their love, or lust, had been only fleeting. She was Anya Proudmoore, granddaughter of the legendary sorceress Jaina Proudmoore.  
  
"No," Mordecai said quietly.  
  
"What? This is obviously the work of demons. Their energies taint this room, and I can see the corpse of an imp lying under the body of the rearmost knight," argued the gravelly voiced paladin Arthur. "Being surrounded by these vile energies is making me ill."  
  
"I didn't say the magic wasn't demonic, and I didn't disagree that there are demons in this chamber," replied Mordecai. He closed his eyes and raised his hands to chest level. He softly chanted for a moment before a small, glowing mass of light appeared in his outstretched hands. He lightly tossed the vibrant sphere at a dead soldier near his feet.  
  
The light landed on the stomach of the soldier, and the trio behind Mordecai stared raptly as it flattened and began to spread across the body. Mordecai's head fell back, his eyes fluttering slightly as the light further obscured the body. Finally, his eyes shot open and one his hands fell limply to his sides, extinguishing the light.  
  
"Mages."  
  
"What? That's absurd!" exclaimed Anya.  
  
"Doesn't mean I'm wrong," Mordecai said as he began rubbing his tired arms.  
  
"Of course you could be wrong! Scrying spells like the one you just performed are notoriously unpredictable, even in the hands of powerful mages, and it's easier to misread the results than to get a correct reading!" she shot back.  
  
"Which is why we are fortunate that I am not a mage, aren't we? Or did you forget what I am?" Mordecai asked quietly, turning back to face the assembly.  
  
"I know all too well what you are, mageslayer!" Anya hissed venomously.  
  
Mordecai merely shrugged and met Anya's emerald gaze. "I am of the order of Kalel'Nor. Whatever names you wish to call me are your own opinions," he said. "However, do remember that I spent many years training. I don't question your skills. You would do well not to question mine."  
  
Anya folded her arms across her breasts sullenly, favoring him with a smoldering glare.  
  
"Now, if I may continue. There were three mages in this room. Powerful mages," Mordecai amended. "I believe they summoned the imps and demons we see before us."  
  
"That's impossible, Mordecai!" the pale man argued, whom Mordecai now remembered was called Edgar. "The castle's mystical wards should have detected such a foul act!"  
  
Anya looked over at him and said, "It is possible for mages as powerful as Mordecai suggests to mask their energies. Mages powerful enough to summon demons and control them wouldn't have any trouble at all dodging the wards in the castle."  
  
"So where are these mages?" asked Arthur as he looked around the chamber. "They obviously aren't here among the dead."  
  
"If you'll notice," Mordecai said as he knelt down to the ground, "this summoning circle here was made of powdered rubies and rose quartz, a mix perfect for summoning lesser demons. The line is broken slightly here," he pointed out. "The break is in the direction of the window. I'd suggest they left that way."  
  
"How could they?" Edgar asked curiously.  
  
"I cannot tell which demon classes they summoned, aside from the obvious bodies in here, but I think it probable that they managed to summon one capable of flight," Mordecai said as he stood up again.  
  
"Wonderful. A trio of powerful mages loose in the city, able to control demons. It sounds like this evening will be eventful," Arthur said grimly.  
  
"You're probably right. I wouldn't think they'd be able to manage anything immediately. . .it's still a little light outside, and even powerful mages would have been drained casting these summons. We should have a small amount of time to alert the city," Mordecai said before turning to Edgar. "Go down to the governor's chambers and tell him what we've discovered. Have him call up the militia."  
  
"Right. I'll find you once I've done that," Edgar said as he walked quickly out of the room, nimbly stepping around the bodies that covered the floor.  
  
Mordecai turned to Anya. "Go rouse the resident mages. See if you can find anyone who's missing that would be powerful enough to manage these spells. Have all the available mages meet in the main courtyard."  
  
Anya nodded sharply and said, "We'll be waiting for you," before she stepped out into the corridor.  
  
"What about me?" asked Arthur suspiciously. "Wouldn't I have been a better choice to go talk to the governor?"  
  
"No. You said earlier the energies in here were making you ill, meaning you are able to detect demonic magic easily. I need you with me to help me hunt down any of the demons that are in the city, assuming they're still here."  
  
"You don't think they will be?" asked Arthur. "If they aren't here, why'd you want the militia and the mages?"  
  
Mordecai walked slowly across the room, his hands clasped behind his back neatly. He stopped in front of the window and leaned against it, looking out at the setting sun. He glanced over to Arthur. "I have traveled much in the past few years, friend, since I left the Tolaria'Din, the citadel of the Kalel'Nor. In the past few months, there have been a number of occurrences such as these."  
  
"Absurd! Surely the mage leaders would know of this!" Arthur exclaimed.  
  
"I'm not sure that they aren't the ones responsible," Mordecai replied quietly.  
  
Arthur stood in stunned silence before he said, "Those are heavy charges."  
  
"They are, and I hope I'm wrong. It doesn't really matter who is summoning them at the moment. Merely the fact that the rift between our world and the Twisting Nether is wide enough to allow members of the Legion through is troubling enough," Mordecai said and turned to Arthur. "You know all about the last time they came through, don't you?"  
  
"Sure. Everyone knows about how they came here with the help of the Guardian and created the Undead Scourge. It's why we live here instead of Lordaeron," Arthur said.  
  
"The last Guardian of Tirisfal, Medivh. He was indeed the linchpin for those events. Many of the Orcs will tell you that he was the one who led the Horde here from Draenor," Mordecai said with an amused look on his face. "But what they don't tell you is that he hosted the spirit of Sargeras of the Legion."  
  
"Is that so?" Arthur asked. "And how do you know that?"  
  
"It's the reason my order was formed. The person who killed the form of Medivh that held Sargeras, the great warrior mage Khadgar, Medivh's former apprentice, decided that the world needed to be prepared if anything happened like that again."  
  
"Why would a mage create an order of mageslayers?" asked Arthur. "Seems like he betrayed his own kind to me."  
  
"That's just the name that the so-called "true mages" call my kind. Though we have killed mages, and are in fact trained to do so, our primary goal is to prevent the Legion from gaining a foothold in this world again. Mages helped bring them here before, and we're here to make sure they don't do it again. However, with the number of demon summons on the rise," Mordecai said as he pushed away from the window and walked closer to Arthur, "I believe they have begun to push through again."  
  
Arthur shook his head sadly and said, "There are dark times in the future, then."  
  
"The near future. Most of the demons haven't been reclaimed and slain. There's a small army out there," Mordecai said quietly.  
  
"You think they will attack soon?"  
  
"I'm sure of it," Mordecai replied with certainty.  
  
"Then we'd better get moving. Maybe we can find these mages or some of the demonspawn before they go rejoin their kind," Arthur said before walking to the door and out into the hallway.  
  
Mordecai lingered in the room, his eyes raking over the details before he sighed softly and followed Arthur.  
  
=-|-=  
  
"My men are at your command, Mordecai," spoke a lieutenant through his helmet's vents. "Is it true that there are demons in the city?"  
  
"Possibly," Mordecai allowed. "They may also have already left."  
  
"If they're still here, we'll find them."  
  
"Split your men into three groups. I will lead one, and Arthur will take another. Leave the third group in the courtyard and await the mages that Anya is bringing."  
  
"By your word, sir," the lieutenant said before turning and beginning to yell orders to his charges.  
  
"Arthur, if you find demons, try to take them yourself with the men you've got. If you run across a mage you suspect of summoning them, send for me quickly. Don't try to fight him or her," Mordecai said.  
  
"I hear you. I'm not quite up to tangling with mages yet. I think that me and these men can bash in demonspawn skulls easily enough, though," Arthur said with a grin before he started off at a fast jog, the militiamen falling in behind him.  
  
Mordecai turned to the group of soldiers that remained, and yelled out, "Keep your eyes open. If you see a demon, tell me at once. If you see a mage, don't try to apprehend him! A mage powerful enough to summon demons is powerful enough to destroy you all without a second thought." He turned and walked into a side street, and beckoned for the worried soldiers to follow him.  
  
=-|-=  
  
"Mordecai sent us, Lady Anya. He wished for us to guard the courtyard along with any mages you returned with," the lieutenant told her, not able to keep from raking his eyes appreciatively across her form.  
  
"See something you like?" Anya asked him harshly.  
  
"Sorry, miss," the soldier said sheepishly before walking away.  
  
"Men. Can't live with 'em, can't turn them into sheep," she muttered in disgust under her breath. She turned around and faced the half-dozen mages she had retrieved. "Mordecai says that there are demons in the city, maybe lead by powerful mages."  
  
"Mordecai!" spat out one of them. "You're trusting a mageslayer?"  
  
"I don't care if he's right or if he's wrong. The possibility that demons are loose is enough for me," she replied.  
  
"This had better not be a wild Murlock chase, Anya, or the elder mages will hear of this, and I would hate to think what sort of consequences it might have for you," another mage said darkly.  
  
"I'll worry about myself another time. Let's find these demons, if they still remain," she said.  
  
=-|-=  
  
Edgar drew his cloak closer around him as he wandered the upper heights of the castle, allowing himself a few moments of relaxation before joining the demon hunt. The sun had finally dropped below the horizon, and the sky was just beginning to change from dark blue to the black of night.  
  
Edgar loved the night, and for good reason. As he walked, the cloak shifted enough to fall open again, revealing the small plethora of daggers that crossed his chest, and the vials that were secured to his belt; the garb of a skilled assassin. Edgar happened to be one of the best that weren't available for hire. Rather, he preferred to join armies and factions freely, performing a few dirty deeds before moving on. He considered himself a good and just man, one who killed only those deserving of death, rather than the enemies of those with large purses.  
  
He paused and leaned against the rough-hewn stone balustrades that lined the corridors, his eyes scanning the horizon, sighing softly at the beauty of the stars that were just beginning to show themselves. He began to push away from the railing when something caught his eye: a small, flickering point of light, apparently far away.  
  
He reached into a small leather pouch on his belt and pulled out a small collapsible telescope. He pulled it out to its full length before raising it to his eye and pointing it towards the light.  
  
"Demons!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "A bloody army of them!"  
  
He crammed the telescope back into bag and dashed off into the darkened corridor, yelling out Mordecai's name.  
  
=+=+ Other Author's Notes: This is only my second WC story, so bear with me please. I'd like feedback if at all possible (I don't ask for it very often), because I'm not too sure of my skills in this universe. If you have suggestions or find plot errors between this and established material, please mention it!  
  
Also, I'm not sure how long this will be. . .probably four or five chapters at most. And I don't have a name for this chapter yet. . .I'm working on it. I'll take suggestions of those too.  
  
Fight on, Dark-Elk  
  
=+=+ 


	2. Chapter 2

Daemon  
  
Chapter 2  
  
By: Dark-Elk  
  
"Lady Anya, this is foolishness! We should have known better than to trust this mageslayer!" a nearby archmage spat out as he lowered his arms. "I've not spent this much energy in ages, and certainly not to follow the feverish dreams of a mageslayer as infamous as Mordecai! I will not dedicate myself, nor my students and servants, to this pursuit any longer. The council will hear of this, Anya, and I should be surprised if you aren't severely reprimanded!"  
  
Anya turned to the elder mage, a dark storm of anger rolling across her face, making the archmage draw back slightly. "What possible benefit could Mordecai gain from this, if it proves to be a lie?"  
  
"Mageslayers are not to be trusted," retorted another mage who had stopped to join the two. "They are vile, twisted magi who have no compunctions against killing their brethren, such as us. I should think it obvious that he has ulterior motives. Doranbrad is home to one of the last great schools of magic on this continent. Perhaps he seeks to further diminish our numbers."  
  
Anya shook her head and began walking again. "I won't believe that. Mordecai has sacrificed much to walk the path he does now, and he has always been an honorable man. If he says there are demons and corrupt mages loose in Doranbrad, I have no choice but to believe him," she said as she closed her eyes, reaching out to begin her search again. "Besides, mageslayers only kill corrupt mages. None of you should have anything to worry about if he's telling the truth or if he's lying either way."  
  
"I'm removing my men from this foolish chase, Anya. Continue if you wish, but the council's punishment will be heavy in this matter," the archmage called after her before turning around and storming back towards the massive castle, the other mages following closely behind.  
  
Anya allowed herself a small smile as she continued to channel the detecting spell and whispered softly "Took them long enough to leave."  
  
=-|-=  
  
"Mordecai! Mordecai!" a man swathed in a black cloak yelled out. He was moving quickly down the street, and as he neared Mordecai, he lowered the cowl of his cloak.  
  
Mordecai turned from the side alley he had been looking down, meeting Edgar's frenetic gaze. "Yes, what is it?"  
  
Edgar pointed up to the city walls as he strode closer. "I was up there resting for a few moments, and I spotted an army of demons," he said bluntly.  
  
Mordecai cursed quietly before asking him, "Did you get an estimate of their numbers?"  
  
"The distance was too great to get an accurate number, and they were near the horizon. From what I saw, I would suppose perhaps a few hundred."  
  
"Were they moving?" Mordecai asked.  
  
"All I saw was a camp. They didn't seem to be moving at all," Edgar said.  
  
"Not now they aren't. Demons like the darkest part of the night best," Mordecai said thoughtfully as he looked up at the stars for a few moments. He closed his eyes, letting the cool evening breeze caress his skin as he pondered his course.  
  
Finally, Mordecai opened his eyes and called out to the small number of militia soldiers that were searching the shops and houses around him. "We've got more pressing problems now than a few demons loose in the city. Form up! And you," he pointed to a nearby soldier, "Go find Arthur, and tell him to meet with us in the square."  
  
He turned back to Edgar. "We've got a few hours before they attack. Find the governor again, and have him mobilize every man who can swing a sword, every mage this city has."  
  
"Right, Mordecai. But after this," Edgar called over his shoulder as he started off at his fast pace again, "we're finding you another messenger."  
  
=-+-=  
  
"Sir Arthur, could you come here a moment? I think we may have found something," called a soldier to the paladin.  
  
Arthur turned from the stack of barrels he had been inspecting. "Are you sure? If I'd known how much time you lot were going to cost me, I'd have told Mordecai to send you off with Anya or have you guard the governor. Anything to keep you out of my hair!"  
  
"Sorry sir, but there's some deep gashes on this wall here. It looks like something climbed it," the soldier said, gesturing to the wall behind him. "Something with big claws."  
  
"Could be a demon, I suppose," Arthur allowed as he crossed the empty street. Apparently word of the possible demon outbreak had spread quickly, though none of the soldiers would admit to breaking the word. It was probably for the best though, because the search was moving along faster than it would have if a bunch of peasants and merchants were lining the alleyways.  
  
Arthur stopped in front of the wall, his eyes scanning the rough brickwork, easily picking out the parallel grooves the soldier had noticed, even in the darkness. He ran a gauntleted hand over them slowly before drawing back with a soft hiss.  
  
"What's wrong, sir?" asked the soldier worriedly.  
  
"Good work, lad. This is the work of a demon. I can feel the dark energies inscribed on the stone," Arthur said worriedly. "I was hoping Mordecai was wrong, but I guess this proves it."  
  
"Is there anyway to tell how long ago these marks were made?" asked the soldier curiously.  
  
"If there is, it's beyond my ken. Perhaps Mordecai could manage such a feat, but I don't believe it matters anyway. Bringing him here would just waste more time on the hunt. We know the demon climbed up, so send a man to go get the dwarves to put one of their flying machines in the air."  
  
"By your word, sir. I'll go myself," the soldier said before snapping a quick salute and jogging down the street.  
  
Arthur shook his head ruefully. "Good lad, but a pain in my rear," he said. He returned his gaze to the deep gashes, studying them thoughtfully for a few moments.  
  
"Sir Arthur! Sir Arthur!" a voice yelled down the street, followed by the sounds of metal boots pounding on cobblestones.  
  
Arthur sighed in vexation, praying to the Light that the soldier hadn't somehow returned already. As he turned to face the caller, he was pleased to discover it wasn't the soldier he had just managed to rid himself of. "Yes, what is it?"  
  
"It's a message from Mordecai, sir. He says there's a demon army on the far outskirts of the countryside, just within sight of Doranbrad. He wants you to gather your men and return to the square," said the breathless messenger.  
  
"Just lovely, that is! You go tell Mordecai that I'll be there soon, but first," Arthur said before he chuckled, "go down to the dwarves, and find the man I just sent to see them. They don't need to have their flying machines in the air just yet."  
  
"Yes, sir. I'll pass the message onto him."  
  
"Take a short break, lad. You sound like death itself," Arthur said, clapping the young man on his back. "Here, drink something. I've got a flask of ale sitting on that crate over there that you're welcome to."  
  
Gratitude brightened the messenger's eyes, and he walked quickly over to the bottle and descended upon it ravenously, as though he hadn't tasted something so wonderful in ages. Finally he set the bottle down as it neared empty and wiped his mouth off with his arm. "Thank you, sir, I needed that."  
  
"Don't mention it, lad. Now, get!" Arthur said with a short laugh. "But take your time finding that soldier of mine. I'm not too eager to see him back just yet."  
  
The messenger nodded sharply before darting off in the direction he had come from.  
  
=-|-=  
  
"You cannot possibly expect me to further alarm my people by ordering a full call to arms! Such a thing hasn't been done in living memory. Now, be off with you. I was in the middle of very important matters, and this disruption is unwelcome," the governor said before opening the door to his chambers and stepping partially into the doorway.  
  
"I think you're making a large mistake, governor. I saw the demon army with my own eyes, and if Mordecai says they're going to attack shortly, I believe him completely," Edgar responded.  
  
"That's all well and good, lad, but I don't think that all the women here in Doranbrad will appreciate losing their husbands and elder sons for the evening to chase this phantom army," the governor said with a frown. "I know Senna wouldn't be," he said as he gestured into his chambers.  
  
"So that's what's so important to you? Sleeping with your wife? You'd rather choose to be in there with her rather than disproving myself and Mordecai. You're going to let this army get in close enough to the city that it'll be too late to stop them!" Edgar accused hotly.  
  
"Come now, Edgar! Look, if you can show me some proof of this foolish belief," the governor started, but was quickly interrupted by Edgar.  
  
"Of course I can! Let me in, and let's go to your window. It faces where I saw the army," Edgar said as he stepped past the governor. The room was dimly lit, candles flickering from various tables and dressers. Lying covered on the bed was whom Edgar assumed was Senna. "Evening, m'am," he said as he crossed the room. He threw open the curtains, revealing the starlight sky.  
  
"Where is this army?" the governor asked from Edgar's side.  
  
"It's right over there. See where the lights are? Those are their bonfires. Mordecai says they'll attack tonight," Edgar said softly.  
  
"I don't know about any demons, but that's definitely an army," the governor admitted.  
  
"Suppose that it is a demon army, sir. It would be prudent to call up every man who can swing a sword, just to be on the safe side, wouldn't it? All the old tales point to demons being powerful beasts, and who you have given us won't be enough to stop them," Edgar stated as he closed the curtains.  
  
"Still, though." the governor trailed off uncertainly, his eyes showing the amount of thought he was putting into Edgar's proposal.  
  
"Are you a gambling man?" Edgar asked abruptly.  
  
"I've been known to play cards from time to time. Why do you ask now? Surely we've more pressing matters to attend than games of chance!"  
  
"If you rouse the men, and Mordecai is proven wrong about this army, I'll provide my services to you for a time."  
  
"And if you're right?" the governor asked curiously.  
  
"Then you'll have a good chance to stop this army and save your city," Edgar replied with a slight shrug.  
  
"It would appear I will benefit either way. Very well, I'll give you the men," the governor said with a sharp nod. He strode over to the desk, clearing it of papers with a sweep of his arm. He picked up a piece of parchment and a quill, quickly jotted a few sentences onto it, and then handed it to Edgar. "This is a full conscription order. Take this to the commander of the militia, and he'll see that you get your men. Now, go! I've kept Senna waiting too long already, I think."  
  
"Thank you, governor. You won't regret this." Edgar said as he walked out of the room and closed the heavy door behind him.  
  
"Courier service again, blast it," Edgar hissed before smiling slightly and dashing down the hall. 


	3. Chapter 3

Daemon  
  
Chapter 3  
  
By: Dark-Elk  
  
"From bad to worse, eh Mordecai?" asked Arthur as he stood next to the mage, both of them studying the assembling troops.  
  
Mordecai nodded absently, lost in thought as he flipped through a thick tome, the pages nearly moldering in the moist air of Doranbrad's night. One hand grasped the spine of the tome, while the other was raised above, little flickers of green flame sparking from his fingers to light the pages. He mumbled a few words to himself before he frowned. A few moments of this went on before he snapped his fingers, extinguishing the flames. He turned to Arthur, the look on his eyes seeming to acknowledge his presence for the first time. "How many men do we have?"  
  
Arthur raised a gauntleted hand to his brow and scanned over the crowd as the soldiers and militia forced themselves into the ring mail underarmor and the plate that rested atop it. In the far corner, a line of armored men were awaiting the dwarven blacksmiths as they sharpened the swords, polishing them until the moonlight glinted off them brilliantly. "Five hundred, maybe six hundred."  
  
"Where's Edgar? I haven't had time to see to the disposition of the demons, so we'll have to rely on what he saw," Mordecai said as he turned around, looking for the assassin.  
  
"I'm over here, Mordecai," Edgar called from one of the lines. "My weapons were a tad rusty, so I figured I'd get the dwarves to clean them up some."  
  
Mordecai closed the distance between the two quickly; a rift formed between him and Edgar as the soldiers pulled back from the mage. "I need to know how many demons you saw. Even a rough estimate would help us."  
  
The line moved forward a few paces, Edgar shuffling along with it. "I'd say maybe a host of eight hundred to one thousand," he muttered softly  
  
Mordecai's eyes widened slightly, and he turned to walk back to Arthur, but his pace was noticeably slowed.  
  
"So, what of it then, Mordecai? We're outnumbered, aren't we?" Arthur asked lightly.  
  
"Indeed. I had hoped we were somewhat evenly matched, but we're outnumbered by anywhere from three to five hundred."  
  
"That's not too bad," Arthur started, before he was interrupted by Mordecai.  
  
"It's worse than it sounds. I've heard most demons summoned recently were spellcasters. That nearly doubles their strength. We're going to need every mage this city has. Have Anya go speak to them, and get them down here down here immediately."  
  
"She hasn't come back yet," Arthur said gravely. "Maybe those loose demons got to her."  
  
Mordecai ran a hand through his hair, tousling it slightly as he tried to process this new problem. "I don't think so," he finally said. "She's much stronger than you might have heard. Not a whit compared to her grandmother, mind you," he allowed. "But then again, not many in this age are."  
  
"Should we send a search party for her? Some of the men are fully prepared, and having them run a errand like this might ease their tensions some."  
  
"Very well. You pick the men. I've got to go speak with the dwarves. Perhaps some of their long rifles are still in good repair."  
  
Arthur wandered off into the throng of soldiers, calling out for various men as he went. Mordecai turned to seek out the dwarven enclave, only to be stopped short by a dwarf standing behind him.  
  
"I'm Dakkon Brownbeard. I heard what you need. My people will be prepared shortly," the dwarf said curtly.  
  
Mordecai blinked a few times, still slightly stunned by the silent appearance of the dwarf. "How many are there?" Mordecai asked.  
  
"Less than five dozen. I'll lead them, though. It's been a while," Dakkon said as he hefted a warhammer off of his back, "But I think I can still swing this a bit." The dwarf sketched a salute and wandered back off into the city.  
  
Arthur tapped Mordecai on the shoulder. "The men are ready."  
  
Mordecai whirled around quickly. "I wish people would quit surprising me," he said in good humor, and then turned to the assembled party of a dozen fully plated men.  
  
One of them, a dark blue plume of feathers attached to his helmet, stepped forward and said, "We're ready to find Lady Anya, Mordecai."  
  
"Find her quickly," Mordecai ordered, and watched silently as the men filtered through the crowd and into the city.  
  
Mordecai glanced at Arthur. "I'll see to speaking with the mages."  
  
Arthur turned and gaped at him. "You?"  
  
"We cannot afford any delays in preparing our defense. I'd like to hope that the elder mages will recognize the need and overlook any differences they have with me," Mordecai said stiffly.  
  
"These mages, they're a temperamental bunch from what I've seen. I don't know if they'll forgive and forget as easily as you make it sound," Arthur replied dubiously.  
  
"I don't intend to ask for forgiveness, for I've done nothing that needs forgiving, and I don't wish for them to forget me," Mordecai said and then flashed a slight grin at Arthur.  
  
"Light be with you then," Arthur said and clapped Mordecai heavily on his back. "If you aren't back in an hour, I'll come up there and tear them mages limb from limb for you, eh?"  
  
Mordecai shook his head in amusement and said, "Don't go too hard on them, Arthur. If they decide to attack me, I wouldn't be downed without a struggle. Any mages left would be too weak to even glare at you." With that he drew his cloak closer around his body, shutting out the sharp chill that was settling on Doranbrad as the evening drew on.  
  


* * *

  
"Lady Anya! Lady Anya!" called a pair of the search party, who had been tasked with combing the dark alleyways of the south end of the city.  
  
"Just our luck to be picked for this, eh Jorus?" one soldier said as his search partner with his plated elbow.  
  
"Could be worse, I guess. Better than standing around shaking our bones all night 'till the demons attack," Jorus replied.  
  
"You worried about the demons?"  
  
"Nah, not at all, Loran. They can't be all as bad as the legends make them out to be, right?"  
  
"I dunno. My grandda told me about fighting in the last Great War against the elves and the undead, and he said the demons were the worst enemy of all. Massive titans of pure fire and power, he said, nearly unstoppable," Loran said with a shiver.  
  
"That's when the Legion was still strong, mind you! It's been years; the demons have to have weakened some since," Jorus scoffed.  
  
A rustling noise, like that of coarse leather scraping across cobblestones, made both of the soldiers tense and halt their advance as they both turned and scanned the narrow alley surrounding them. After a few moments, the pair shrugged in near unison and warily began forward again, their eyes taking turns furtively darting around the alley.  
  
"Wonder what that was. . ." Jorus started before being cut off by Loran.  
  
"Shh. . .you hear that? Sounds like whispering!" Loran hissed.  
  
Jorus stopped again and listened hard. His muscles seemed to deflate as he nodded his agreement; it surely sound like faint whispering was filling the alleyway. "I don't like this, Loran. . ." he started again, but this time was cut off not by Loran, but by a guttural, wordless curse that echoed down the alley.  
  
Both of the men drew their swords, the tips waggling uncertainly, easily betraying the fear of the two. "Come out, whoever you are! Hands in the air!" Loran yelled, his voice nearly a hysterical shriek.  
  
Another curse choked its way down the alley, forcing the pair to jump slightly in fear. "On three we charge down the alley, okay Loran? Whatever's down there won't expect that." Jorus hissed. "One, two, THREE!" Jorus thundered as his legs pumped and he began hurtling down the alleyway, weaving as he tried to avoid stacked crates and trash.  
  
He skidded to a stop as he saw a faint light growing at the end of the alley. The glow separated itself into lines that seemed to form a rune of some sort. Jorus began to call out, but his voice was choked off as he was flung into the air and thrust backwards, colliding with Loran, who was just now reaching him.  
  
A yell of triumph echoed down the alley as the pair slowly stood, grasping the hilts of their swords so tightly that Loran wondered insanely for a moment whether he would be able to bend his with his bare hands. Another rune symbol, this time in blazing blue fire, sketched itself in the air and then streaked towards Loran, impacting on his chest and slicing cleanly through the breastplate. Loran screamed in agony as Jorus backed away from him in horror.  
  
Then Loran's body exploded into an expanding pillar of blue flame. Jorus had just enough time to raise his sword before the column reached him, disintegrating all trace of his body.  
  
A rough laugh, followed by a deeply intoned "Fools!" echoed down the hallway, before footsteps began retreating away from where the pair had fallen.  
  


* * *

  
"Mordecai, is it? I'll inform the elders that you've come," replied the guard sitting outside of the mage quarters, his voice disinterested. He stood from his chair, stretched his legs for a few moments, and then slid through the doorway behind him.  
  
"Thank you. Please, hurry," Mordecai called after him, lowering his cowl. Torches flickered in scones that covered the rough stone walls, and along one wall a giant, intricately woven tapestry depicted the great sorceress Aegwynn's epic victory against the powerful demonlord Sargeras. Her hands were outstretched in a casting gesture, and a beam of rainbow light was streaking through what appeared to be a fierce blizzard. Dead bodies of thousand of demons littered the ground, and faintly in the sky a great flight of dragons could be seen flapping furiously, eager to be away from the legendary battle.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't it? Nice craftsmanship," a voice drifted through the room. An elderly man slowly stepped through the doorway, waving at the tapestry. "Always been one of my favorites."  
  
"It is indeed a delight to look at," Mordecai agreed thoughtfully, his hand stroking his chin as he gazed upon the tapestry. He made a sort of appreciative noise before he turned and smiled at the man. "I don't believe we've ever met. My name is..."  
  
"I know well who you are, mageslayer Mordecai of the order of the Kalel'Nor. I believe that's what your kind call yourselves, isn't it?"  
  
"It is," Mordecai agreed again, his voice noticeably more stiff than before as the smile faded from his face. "Who are you?"  
  
"I am Naroc, mage of the order of the Kirin Tor," the mage said slowly, his eyes absorbing Mordecai fully as he spoke. "Perhaps you may have heard of me during your travels, in the course of your...work."  
  
"Indeed, the name Naroc is one known to my ears," Mordecai acknowledged and outstretched his hand. "We are well met."  
  
"Perhaps," Naroc replied curtly, brushing away Mordecai's offered hand. "The elders are prepared to see you now. Follow me this way." With that, Naroc turned and walked through the corridor he had come from.  
  
Mordecai shook his head slightly in annoyance as he allowed himself one more generous glance at the tapestry, savoring its every detail. He tore his eyes away from it with great reluctance, and he followed Naroc.  
  
The corridor was narrow and dark; it really was little more than a slit in the wall, with no room to hold candles. Mordecai raised his hand and muttered a few words quietly as he walked, nodding in satisfaction as a furiously swirling sphere of fire appeared, hovering a few inches above his outstretched palm. The light didn't reveal much in the corridor, but it made the rather uneven floor easier to see. Mordecai was sure he avoided many painful spills at the hands of the poorly laid cobblestones.  
  
Finally, a shaft of light appeared at the end of the corridor. Mordecai closed his palm over the floating sphere, softly hissing as the fire extinguished itself. He flexed his hand experimentally a few times as he came to the exit of the corridor, and then looked up, only to find Naroc had disappeared.  
  
"Hello?" Mordecai called out, feelings of unease knotting his stomach. Was this a trap? He wouldn't put it past these mages; descendents of the original Kirin Tor seemed to loathe and despise followers of the Kalel'Nor, although he supposed their hatred was justified. He had been forced to slay more than a few of the surviving Kirin Tor mages. "We need to speak immediately."  
  
"Why should we speak with one such as you, Mordecai? One who has wandered the crossroads of the world for nine years, hunting and killing our best and brightest mages deserves nothing but death," a voice echoed from above Mordecai.  
  
"Listen!" Mordecai bellowed, his words echoing loudly in the great room he had found himself in. "There are demons outside the city, a massive army the likes of which hasn't been seen since the last Great War. They are coming to wipe this city out of existence, and unless you aid myself and the people of Doranbrad, there will be nothing to stop them."  
  
A barked syllable echoed back at him, and Mordecai gasped in surprise as he felt his body streak backwards, impacting heavily on the wall. His breath all but gone, he managed to rasp out, "Why don't you listen to reason?"  
  
"The Kalel'Nor embrace lies and half-truths to serve their own ends; such knowledge is common here. We know all too well what you are capable of, and what you have done during your crusade."  
  
Mordecai's body slid slowly down the wall, landing heavily on the cool stone floor. He took a few deep breaths, attempting to regain his wind. He cast his anger-filled eyes up towards where he had felt the attack come from. Finally, he spoke. "I do not care what Lady Anya has told you. She speaks from the perspective of a spurned lover, and her words are far more vitriolic than is true. Her relation to Jaina Proudmoore should not blind you to the very obvious dangers that threaten this city now."  
  
A cluster of old mages stepped out through the wall at the end of the room, and Mordecai resisted the urge to rub his eyes in surprise. The optical illusion was effective, though he had seen better in his travels. "Mageslayer Mordecai, on pain of death, do you have conclusive evidence of this demonic threat to the city of Doranbrad?"  
  
"I would not be here if I didn't," Mordecai said as he slowly stood; pain was flashing through each and every joint of his body, a cruel reminder of the short flight he had just undertaken. "Use a viewing lens and look to the east. You will see enough campfires to melt all the ice in Northrend. If your glass is powerful enough, you can make out the demons."  
  
"Very well, Mordecai," said one of the mages as he stepped back through the wall. One of the remaining elders stared venomously at Mordecai for a few more moments before casting his gaze to the window and the night that was visible through it. "I find it convenient that a demonic army would choose to attack Doranbrad so soon after your arrival. A suspicious man might level the accusation that you are directly related to this supposed assault."  
  
"You accuse me, a sworn lifelong member of the Kalel'Nor, an order devoted to hunting down corrupt mages to prevent the summoning of the remnants of the Burning Legion, of summoning or controlling enough demons to level Doranbrad?" Mordecai asked incredulously. "Though my powers are great, I don't believe I could summon even a tenth of the army that prepares to obliterate this city."  
  
"The demons came from somewhere, mageslayer!" retorted the mage, returning his baleful stare to Mordecai. His lip drew back slightly in a sneer.  
  
"Precisely an issue I wished to take up with you and the other members of your council. Thus far in my journey, I have come across a staggering number of magi who have dabbled in the dark arts. I feel it to be very likely that perhaps someone in Doranbrad is at least partially behind this demonic host. Surely you've visited the room on the other side of the castle where a demon was obviously summoned."  
  
"I have," admitted the elder. "I see no evidence of involvement of any Kirin Tor mages."  
  
"Then you weren't looking hard enough," Mordecai replied simply. "Even Lady Anya accepted my supposition."  
  
"Lady Anya is neither a member of this council, nor is she held in a favorable light at the time. Against the wishes of the council, she remains in the city, seemingly hunting down this summoned demon."  
  
Mordecai began to reply, and then paused. A frown spread across his face as he realized the full import of the elder's words. "Lady Anya disobeyed the council?"  
  
"Very directly, yes."  
  
"Many things must have changed since last we met, then. I never imagined her capable of such open rebellion," Mordecai said thoughtfully. "Some of the soldiers are looking for her currently. When they find her, I'll make it known to her that the council is displeased with her."  
  
The elder started to reply, but then fell silent as the mage who had left returned, his face slightly pale. "The mageslayer speaks the truth. There is a host of demons outside the city. You didn't say there were so nigh, though."  
  
"They weren't. When Edgar saw them, they were still a camped a few miles away. Unless..." Mordecai started, his voice filled with dread. He stepped forward a few paces and glanced out the window. "It's past midnight now. Of course they would attack now."  
  
"Issue a call to every mage in the academy, Norac!" one of the elders who had remained silent thus far thundered out. "Time is short now!" Norac reappeared in the chamber and nodded curtly at the council. A blue shaft of light appeared around his body, and in a few moments he vanished.  
  
"Mageslayer, our grievances are far from settled. However, in the interest of the city, it seems most prudent to set them aside for the moment. We will deal with this matter when we have won this battle."  
  
"If, you mean." Mordecai said softly as a piercing blue light invaded the room, washing over all the men within. Mordecai's heart leapt into his throat as the teleportation spell completed itself, and he closed his eyes in preparation for what he knew to be a very disconcerting experience.  
  
When he opened them again, they were met by the massive main gate of Doranbrad, behind which the defenders of the city were finishing their final preparations. Edgar raised a gloved hand and waved nonchalantly at Mordecai. He took a moment to compose himself and to recover from the disorientation he always seemed to experience whenever he teleported. As he had nearly expected, Arthur's hand landed heavily upon his sore shoulder, eliciting a quiet groan of pain from Mordecai as he turned to face the paladin.  
  
"I don't know how you did it, you lucky bloke, but all the mages are here now," Arthur said nearly jovially before his face fell. "All, that is, but Lady Anya."  
  
"The search party hasn't found her yet?" Mordecai coughed; teleportation seemed to have the side effect of drying his throat and mouth completely on only him.  
  
Arthur grabbed a flask from his side and slid it into Mordecai's hand. "Drink. No, they didn't find hide nor hair of her. Come to think of it, they should all have reported in by now."  
  
Mordecai tilted the flask up to his mouth and downed the fiery ale within gratefully, though his gullet nearly immediately protested the harsh treatment. He coughed again, this time not from a dry mouth, but from the strength of the ale. He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and smiled slightly at Arthur as he extended the flask back to the paladin. "The dwarves'll be angry if you keep nipping off with their fuels and mistaking them for spirits."  
  
Arthur laughed heartily and clapped Mordecai on the back again as he reached forward to grab hold of the flask. "It's good you can find humor in dark times as these. Shall I send out a few more men after Lady Anya?"  
  
"I wouldn't see how a few more men could hurt," Mordecai replied.  
  
Arthur pointed to a few men that were standing nearby, apparently already prepared to go join the search, and watched in satisfaction as the men began marching off. "Everyone's here now, Mordecai, except her. All that's left is the demons."  
  
A fierce cry went up from the city walls as the archers let loose a volley of arrows, and then began grabbing at the white-feathered shafts that were resting in the quivers at their feet, nocking and firing the arrows in a furious rain.  
  
Mordecai glanced up to the walls and then back to Arthur. "You just had to say it, didn't you?"  
  


* * *

  
Author's Note:  
  
My many and most sincere apologies for how long it has been since last I updated. Life has a tendency to get bad all very quickly, as I'm sure you may know. I'm plugging along on all my writing again thanks to a renewed sense of...something...*shrugs*  
  
And for anyone who frequents http://www.shatteredenigma.com may know that my story was recently second place in a bid for first against The Forgotten One in a contest to become a Featured Story. I believe the only reason I failed was because this chapter wasn't there. I think this chapter is vital in both it's continued painting of my characters, and of conflicts to come.  
  
Thank you, reader. Kindly leave a review, because I would love to get some feedback on this story.  
  
Fight on,  
  
Dark-Elk 


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